Is your face a beautiful blossom or a sweet torture? I have no complaints but my heart is tempted to let you hear of its sorrows.
RumiAll day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, Iโm sure of that,and I intend to end up there. Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didnโt come here of my own accord, and I canโt leave that way. Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.
Rumi